Mountains out of Mole Hills
by Vornskyld
Summary: Fudgalanches, scavenger hunts, and yaoi, oh my! WillyTeenCharlie, written for the WonkaSlash community's Cliche contest... It's full of cliches on purpose.


-1(Nothing except the plot is ours, and even it's pretty clichéd. Don't sue us! And be warned of slash.)

Vorn says: Flames will be laughed at and shared with fellow authors, who will shake their head at the stupidity of the flamers.

**Skyld says: And flames will also be graded for grammar and spelling and returned to the flamer.**

Vorn says: There's not point in leaving an anonymous flame

**Skyld says: Because those will be dissected in our next author's note, and we shall used advanced psychology to prove you secretly want to screw sheep. **

Charlie adjusted the hood of his parka, and turned to look at the incredible view from the peak of Fudge Mountain. A familiar presence at his shoulder made him turn his head and smile eagerly. Willy had arrived, a vision in dark red fur. Mischief tugged at Charlie's lips, and he did his best imitation of his mentor and friend. "No other factory in the world conducts routine inspections with mountain-climbing equipment and sherpas."

Wonka's head whirled around to look Charlie in the face, blinking owlishly. He finally got his mind past the quasibelievable impersonation to what Charlie had said. "Oh, really, we are?"

"Last time I checked." Charlie beamed, bouncing up and down happily. Tomorrow would make six years since he'd walked through the gates with the other four ticket holders and he still hadn't gotten over his delight in the factory and the company of the man he'd idolized all of his life. "Isn't it awesome?"

Wonka looked at Charlie dreamily, "Yeah... ." He seemed to snap himself out of it, as his demenor changed to 'buisness mode', that is to say, his grin grew wider and his step bouncier. "So, my dear Charlie, lead on!"

Charlie laughed, and smiled down at the OompaSherpas, then began working his way down the mountain, heading for the cliff the Oompa Loompas had pointed out earlier. They were worried that it was unstable, and wanted permission to stop working it. Charlie was inclined to agree with them sight unseen, but this trek gave him a little time away from his family. He loved his family, of course, but he sometimes got tired of them. Odd… he never felt that way about Willy, and he spent more time with his mentor than with them.

Wonka followed Charlie at a safe distance. Safe distance meaning, Charlie couldn't reach out and grab were he to fall. Ahura Mazda knew he adored the little boy, but he simply would not allow himself to be used as a means of such menial stabilization. If Charlie was going to injure someone's physical dignity- Wonka stopped his line of though there, mentally smacking himself upside the head. 'We do not need a repeat of what happened last... yeah... you still have to make it –off- the mountain!'

The view was spectacular, and Charlie kept getting distracted from the important business of mountain-climbing by the beauty. And it was all eatable! He stopped and glanced up the mountain at Willy. 'Even he is eatable…' Which was a subject Charlie refused to think about. It was too awkward. He turned to go onward, only to discover that suddenly there was no need for him to walk down the mountain—the mountain was moving on its own.

Wonka, who had been inadvertly staring at Charlie's... dorsal apparatus, was slightly perplexed when the boy seemed to move, even though his feet were both planted firmly on the ground. Fudge. Whatever. Wonka's mind was too full of Charlie-related thoughts to process what he was seeing quickly enough. He felt the fudge beneath his own feet give way, and he promptly responded with a shrill, stately squawk. It was a fudgalanche!

Charlie woke up in darkness. Cold, chocolate-scented darkness. Well, cold except for the periodic touch of warm air on his throat. Moving slowly, mindful of the bruises he discovered with every waking moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the experimental candy they'd been working on yesterday. Still not quite perfect, but it would do. Closing his eyes, he tore the wrapper off of a Glow Gobstopper, and was gratified to see light through his eyelids. He set the candy down, and slowly opened his eyes, wincing at first at the brightness.

Charlie's eyes finally adjusted to the light enough for him to see, but what he saw he didn't believe. The warm air on his throat had come from Willy's mouth. The chocolatier was lying facedown on top of him, apparently asleep. Noting that his mentor was still unmoving, Charlie revised that to unconscious. And very cold. The breath was the only thing warm about the still form.

Alarmed now, Charlie looked around, his mind finally making connections. There had been a fudgalanche, and there were no Oompa Loompas in sight. There wasn't much of anything in sight, in fact. Charlie and Willy were nestled safely in an angle formed by two huge slabs of fudge. It was all that had saved their lives, but now they were trapped, and how would the Oompa Loompas find them?

Never one to panic, Charlie told himself he wasn't going to start now. The first thing to do was to get Willy warm. An attempt to check his friend's pulse had revealed that his once-fine clothes were now caked with sticky, ice-cold fudge. Charlie's clothing was in better shape, probably because Willy had further to fall. Well, that was a place to start. Getting Willy out of the cold clothes would help him warm up, especially if Charlie took off his parka and used it as a blanket for them both. Shared body heat, and all.

With many blushes and awkward pauses, Charlie worked the fur coat off of the older man, and then tackled his own. It didn't really take long for him to turn the icy, inhospitable cavelet into a warm, furlined nest. Granted, the fur was somewhat fudgy, and it was warm only compared to what it had been before, but Charlie wasn't going to complain. Finishing, he turned his attention to the still-unconscious Willy.

Frowning, Charlie tried to remember everything he knew about hypothermia. Which wasn't much. So he focused on ways of warming up. Exercise, hot cocoa, sitting by the fire, snu--… Charlie blushed. He was a teenager, after all, and unlike Willy he –didn't- spend all of his time in the factory. And he could only think of one way to warm someone up that didn't involve things that weren't available. Slowly, with fingers made clumsy by cold—and only by the cold, he assured himself—Charlie began removing Willy's outer layer of clothing.

"I am only doing this because I can't think of anything else to try," Charlie reminded himself and the unconscious Willy in a whisper as he stripped his friend down to a pair of monogrammed silk boxers. "I am a normal, healthy teenage boy who likes -girls- and is not at all attracted to his male best friend."

'His only friend,' thought Charlie as he began removing his own clothes, tucking them in beside Willy for extra insulation against the cold. 'People at school were either jealous of me or only interested in what I could do for them…' Finally clad in only a thin t-shirt and his briefs, he snuggled close to Willy between their coats and whispered, "I am not enjoying this at all."

'Blushing must be paying off,' Charlie mused, as he began to feel his fingers again. And Willy's skin was definitely feeling warmer. Relief flooded him as Willy began to shiver. One of the few things he remembered about hypothermia was that shivering was a good sign. Closing his eyes, he held the chocolatier closer until the shivering stopped, at which point Charlie drifted off into pleasant dreams. Very pleasant.

Wonka drifted in and out of consciousness, his senses slowly returning to him. What finally woke him, he couldn't easily tell. It could have been the finger that was continuously prodding his stomach, or the fact that he was freezing cold and shivering violently. His nose told him that there was chocolate nearby, his ears told him that he wasn't alone, which he already guessed from the prodding, his tongue told him that either his lip was bleeding or he'd bitten it, and his eyes… oh, right. He hadn't opened them yet.

His brain wanted some visual input, but Wonka wanted nothing to do with it. His brain sulked, and then tried to appeal to Wonka's inquisitive nature. Don't you want to know where you are? No. Wonka squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, to prove to his brain that he really didn't want to open them. His head hurt enough as it was, he didn't need his eyes to be assaulted by the light to add to his pain. And then the last moments of what had happened, and his eyes snapped open of his own accord. Was Charlie alright, and the oompa loompas?!

Wonka waited for the wall of searing light to hit him, but it never came. Instead, he found that the only light source was a soft, glowing orb to the side of him. Charlie must have done that, clever boy.

Murmuring softly in his sleep, Charlie shifted and snuggled closer to his mentor. When he did so, whatever had been poking Willy shifted significantly… although it didn't stop poking.

Wonka froze, every muscle tensed, as the idea began to dawn on him that whatever he was laying on wasn't the ground. Slowly, Wonka looked back down, and sure enough, there was his protégé. Lying underneath him. And... poking him.

Charlie smiled blissfully in his sleep, and one hand trailed up to be buried in Willy's hair. A contented sigh escaped him, and then a whisper that might have been, "Love you, Willy..." And then Charlie relaxed again, drifting away from dreams.

Wonka's breath caught in his throat and he had to fight the urge to faint. Wh-what did he just say?! He just said… and the poking thing… he had -that- while dreaming about Willy? And… and… Wonka was about to start hyperventilating any moment. He should have just fainted when he'd had the chance, and left it to Charlie to get them out of this compromising situation.

Wait a minute. Where were his clothes, and why the HELL wasn't he wearing them?!

Charlie woke up, blinking at the soft light and blushing a little at the fragments of dream lingering in his mind. Then blushing more as elements from the dream invaded his reality. Willy was definitely on top of him... and awake! Most of the dream was dispelled by joy. "You're okay!"

Wonka's eyes grew wide and he tried to remain calm. A million thoughts of what to say flew through his mind, too quickly for him to pick one. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, willing some sort of answer to come out on his own. An answer came, but it was more of a confused squeak than anything else. The thing poking him had taken up most of his brainpower. He blushed furiously and panicked, his mind screaming for some sort of sickening, disgusting thought. Gloop bathing in his chocolate! If that didn't do the trick, Wonka didn't know what would.

"... You are okay, aren't you?" Charlie began to be concerned, and then embarrassed again as he removed his hand from that soft, silky hair. "Er... there was a fudglanche... You were unconscious and freezing."

"I… I'm… ok." WOnka managed to force out, still an octave or two higher than he would have liked, but at least he'd said something. "Oh, I see." He gulped nervously, and then ask, "Charlie, where are our clothes?"

"A-around us..." Charlie tried to remember if he'd ever seen Willy's eyes this close before. Or his lips... All he'd have to do was lean forward. But he didn't. He didn't move, only stared at the face in front of him as if hypnotized.

"I can, uh… see that. What I meant was… why are they not… on… us." Wonka managed to ask, but before Charlie could answer, one of the chocolate slabs above them shifted, jarring Wonka's head downwards, his mouth coming into not-so-light contact with Charlie's own mouth, and his entire mind went blank.

Charlie knew the kiss wasn't intentional. And that he should break it and apologize. But he was too busy responding to it eagerly. He almost laughed when he found out that the world's most famous chocolate-maker tasted like peppermint toothpaste instead of candy. Charlie closed his eyes, hoping Willy would respond to the kiss.

Well, didn't quite respond in the way that Charlie had imagined, but close enough. Willy's mouth dropped open from the shock of so much unexpected contact.

This was heaven... Charlie ran his hands across Willy's back, reveling in the feeling of the smooth skin. Smooth, except for a sticky smear of fudge on the shoulder. Charlie left those sweet lips and began kissing his way toward it.

Wonka's brain chose that exact moment to shut itself off, and let his body take over. He made a noise deep in his throat that sounded suspiciously like a purr and shuddered. All of his weight already on Charlie, he brought both hands up to the youth's head and his fingers buried themselves in his hair. His mouth sought the closest patch of exposed flesh, Charlie's neck where it met his shoulder, and began to nibble gently.

Charlie shivered, and tried to keep his lips on Willy's shoulder without interfering with the nibbling. One of his hands found the waistband of a pair of crimson silk boxers and lingered there a moment before trailing around toward the front. What it would do once it got there Charlie wasn't ready to think about. Anyway, why think?

Thinking was vastly overrated indeed, though some little voice in the back of Wonka's mind that thinking is exactly what he should be doing. Unfortunatly, he was about as ready to listen to his mind as Charlie was to use his. He kissed his way up Charlie's neck and settled on his earlobe, alternating between nibbling it and blowing into his ear softly.

Moaning softly from Willy's attentions, Charlie reached the smudge-- finally!-- and licked it. Then licked it again, and chuckled. "Chocolate-covered Wonka..."

Wonka brought his hand to the side of Charlie's face and turned it, just gently enough as not to be rough. He wanted a taste as well, and by god, he would have one! He traced his tongue over Charlie's lips, and then pushed it between them, hoping to glean a taste from Charlie's own tongue.

Charlie was more than happy to give him a taste, returning the kiss fiercely. His hand made it to the front of Willy's boxers and slid inside caressingly. Years of dreams were suddenly coming true, and he found himself wanting to rush them and to savor the moment all at once.

Wonka was greatly enjoying the kiss, and lack of a conscience, until the gentle hand caressing between his legs brought reality crashing back. He recoiled from Charlie as much as he could within the confined space. Had he really been about to…? Were they really…? They couldn't be doing this! Charlie was too young to know what he was doing, too innocent. But, hadn't Charlie been the one to initiate it? Oh, he was confused. Confused and cold.

The look on Charlie's face was one that Willy hadn't seen in years. Not since the day he'd foolishly insisted on not allowing the Bucket family to live in the factory. Betrayal was there, and confusion, and pain at being rejected. And an adorable pout. He didn't know why they'd stopped, or why Willy was looking at him that way. What had he done wrong?

Willy opened his mouth to say something else, but when he saw the look on Charlie's face his heart melted and the words refused to come forward. He willed Charlie to keep that expression on his face, it made him look like a young boy again, and it helped Willy maintain his self control. But not by much. He responded to the young boy's pout with a sad, wistful gaze.

"Charlie… we can't."

"Why not?" Charlie hated that he sounded so petulant. He'd wanted to sound seductive, but his voice had betrayed him. Willy had been enjoying himself—he knew he had!—What was wrong that he didn't want Charlie?

Wonka closed his eyes and forced himself to take calm, deep breaths. It wouldn't do either of them any good were he to have a panic attack. He tried focusing on anything but Charlie, but reminding himself he has was trapped under his own mountain for who knew how long only made his urge to panic rise. He opened his eyes again and looked down at Charlie.

"Why do you want this? Me?"

"Because… you're you." Charlie paused, groping for the words to express how he felt. "Because you're the most wonderful person in the world, and my best friend, and you've always been my hero and…" Charlie blushed, glancing away from those intense violet eyes and licking his lips nervously. "And you're beautiful. And I… I think I'm in love with you. I think… I always have been."

Wonka really didn't know how to respond to all of that, the idolization, the respect, the love. He did the only thing he could, he ignored his emotions and withdrew into the safety of his mind. "Charlie, you don't know what I am, who I am, you don't know what it is you're lusting after. You're too young to know what you want, and you're too young to know me. And even if you were and you did, shouldn't you ask if this is what I want?"

Charlie had never understood the meaning of the phrase 'broken heart', but now it made perfect sense to him. That was exactly what it felt like. Desperately, he looked into Willy's eyes, hoping for a sign that the candy maker was teasing. Not finding the sign, he couldn't look away knowing he might never be this close again. "I'm seventeen. A-and… what don't I know? Why not? I thought... we were friends…"

He closed his eyes against tears, not wanting to admit to himself that he had taken advantage of the situation without thinking about what Willy wanted. But Willy had seemed to enjoy himself! Where was the harm? A tear escaped from under his eyelids and made a bid for freedom across his fudge-streaked cheek.

"I'm sorry… I… I thought… I love you, and I thought that was enough." Charlie felt more tears escaping, but didn't wipe them away. He couldn't reach his face without brushing against Willy's bare chest, and that would hurt more than the pain of lost dignity. "I didn't mean to… to do things you didn't want."

Wonka's heart broke more with Charlie's every word, every glance, every tear. He began second guessing himself, which he hated. Why couldn't he let Charlie love him? Why would it be so wrong for he and Charlie to… you know. Why was he denying both parties what he knew they both wanted. Why-. And then he had it. Why shouldn't Charlie earn it, why shouldn't Charlie answer his questions for him? "Why won't I say yes?"

The question confused Charlie at first, and he opened his slate grey eyes to look up at his mentor. "I… don't know. I guess the most obvious would be that you're not interested in men… Or that you don't want to get hurt, or to hurt me…" Charlie's voice broke into a strangled sob, and he closed his eyes, fighting for control. Willy's rejection was hurting him far more than anything else possibly could, but he didn't want his mentor to have the pain of knowing that.

"Or… maybe…" Charlie tried to keep the hope out of his voice, and licked his lips nervously. He opened his eyes. He had to see Willy's face when he said it… "Maybe you're just scared?"

"And, what if more than one of the above were true? What if I was scared? Scared of hurting, or being hurt? Would you forgive me? Would you still trust me?" At this, Wonka's own voice cracked significantly, and tears came forth unbidden. "And… even… even if I still refused you, would you still trust and love me? Or wh… when you discovered that your lust wouldn't be sated by the object of your d… desires, would you move on?" he clenched his eyes shut. Unlike Charlie, he didn't want to see the other's reaction, if the response only brought pain.

Charlie didn't even have to think. The whispered answers came to him without thought or hesitation, and as he said them he knew they were true. "I would forgive you for anything, without being asked. I'll always trust you, no matter what. And nothing—Nothing—could ever make me stop loving you, or make me want to leave you." His hand moved up of its own accord to gently wipe away Willy's tears, and damn the consequences.

Wonka whimpered as he felts the much-desired contact of Charlie's hand on his bare skin, and couldn't resist leaning into the touch. His eyes fluttered open and met Charlie's own, and they simply stared at each other for several seconds before Willy's head slowly dipped downward. His heart began to race again, their lips were oh so close. Almost there! And then… light. Utterly blinding light.

Utterly blinding light. Willy and Charlie hissed in pain simultaneously and jerked backward. Unfortunately for Charlie, that involved his head colliding with some very solid fudge. He let lose every curse he knew, mentally of course, or else he'd never get Wonka into bed with him.

As soon as Willy knew which way was up, he shot a glare in that general direction, as best as he could tell, and was rewarded by a cacophony of seemingly helium-induced giggles and laughter. Had he been so inclined, Willy would have cursed the oompa loompas himself. He settled for a glare, but their continued laughter triggered something, and something clicked in his mind. Those… little… BASTARDS.

Before he could even think past the pain, Charlie found himself wrapped in warm blankets and hustled into a sled, where he was bundled up even further. He tried not to glare at the little Oompa Loompas, but their infernal giggling and superior looks were grating on his nerves. Even worse, he couldn't twist around to see Willy. He assumed the chocolatier was going into the second sled he'd seen, but any attempt to see caused Charlie to fall off the sled.

Had Willy been about to kiss him when the Oompa Loompas had arrived? Charlie thought he might have been… or not. It was hard not to get his hopes up… He wanted to believe that the kiss had been about to happen. But… he wasn't sure. And the longer he spent on the sled, the less sure he was. Thus it was a thoroughly depressed Charlie who the Oompa Loompas finally shooed into a warm bath in his room, which he'd occupied since reaching the age that a teenager wanted more privacy than the Buckets' tiny house could provide.

Wonka was struck with inspiration in the middle of his bath. It was an idea, and oh my, what an idea! He rushed through the rest of the bath faster than he ever had before and sprinted down the hallway of his master suite to his large, walk-in closest, which was almost as large as the entire first story of the Bucket's… home. He pulled on his normal shirt, vest, pants and shoes, looking long and hard at his rack of frock coats and the hat stand next to it. But no, those wouldn't do at all. It would be too hard to get wrinkles out of the coat and he loathed the very idea of endangering his hat.

His dressing done, he dove into his office, digging around for blank cards and his favorite, temperamental fountain pen, and sat down, scribbling furiously. He stopped every few minutes to mutter to himself, sounding out the flow of the words, and looking at them from Charlie's point of view. It just wouldn't do to make this too easy on the boy, but he didn't want the task to be impossible either.

When he was finished, he flipped through the small stack, to make sure they were all in order, and practically floated out of his suite, to his first stop, Charlie's room. He paused just long enough to give his reflection in the mirror an excited, nervous, and mischievous smile. The night was about to begin!

Charlie finally crawled out of the bath, physically relaxed and warm, but mentally still tense and cold. He'd ruined his one and only chance with Willy, and now nothing would ever be the same, even if Willy pretended nothing had happened. That would be worse, in fact. He just wanted to sleep for the rest of the day… year… life… Sighing heavily, he flopped facedown onto his bed, then blinked at the card pressing into his cheek.

Willy reclined in the pristine white easy chair in the TV Room, and settled in to watch Charlie trying to unravel his first clue. He was given quite a pleasant, jolting surprise when Charlie came into view absolutely buck naked, and collapsed on his bed. A worried thought of 'What if he doesn't notice the note?!' crossed his mind momentarily, but was quickly pushed out by the artist in Willy, who was intent on memorizing every possible feature of the boy.

Charlie, frowning, propped himself up on his elbows to read the card. It was in Willy's handwriting, in the purple ink that he always filled his favorite fountain pen with. But the words made absolutely no sense at all.

"A room with a view, if you care to look,

Though you'd be better off reading a book."

Pulled out of his black depression by the note, Charlie sat up in bed, puzzling over the note. Maybe it was a clue to something? If that was the case… the TV room? Charlie got up and began pulling clothes on. He didn't know what was going on, but he might find out if he went to the TV room.

Wonka pouted slightly when Charlie began dressing, but as long as Charlie looked like he knew where he was going, there was the promise of seeing Charlie naked again, and he could survive until then. He stood up and picked up the final, unplaced card and set it in what he guessed to be the center of the room and clicked his way up the ramp. He hid behind and under the console and waited for the elevator to 'ding'.

Charlie's pessimism began to return during the elevator ride. Willy was probably trying to distract him. To tell him that they were still friends, and everything was going to be okay. But it wasn't, and he didn't think he'd ever be able to just forget that kiss or how beautiful Willy had looked wearing practically nothing or how nice it had felt to hold him while he slept. Gloomily, he stalked off the elevator and into the TV room, rather nonplussed to find not Willy, but another note.

"Around the bend of the chocolate stream,

I'm hid amongst toffee and caramel cream."

That one was much harder than the first… biting his lip thoughtfully, Charlie went back to the elevator and pressed the button for the chocolate room.

Willy giggled to himself, there was a great deal of time between the elevator came and when it left. Poor Charlie was having issues figuring out his clues. Oh well, if he failed to understand one, Wonka was sure an errant oompa loompa wouldn't have any problems pointing him in the right direction.

He pulled himself out from under the control console and dusted himself off, not that there was any dust or dirt in the room to speak of. He smiled to himself and strode over to the Great Glass Elevator to follow Charlie when he realized something. Charlie was still on it. Charlie would be using it all night.

Damn. Erm, whizzing wangdoodles, rather. Wonka disliked cursing, after all. Wonka grumbled to himself and walked over to the wall, his hands searching it. The hopeless fantasy fanatic within him had just known the secret passageways running though the entirety of the Factory would come in handy!

Now, why hadn't he had the foresight to install a moving walkway?

Charlie climbed into the boat and directed it to go downstream, glad that the dozens of Oompa Loompas who'd rowed it during the tour had been only for show. The boat could propel itself perfectly well without help, and Charlie didn't want to talk to anyone right now. Usually, he delighted in the huge pink boat, and rode it at almost every opportunity, but today the dizzying rollercoaster ride only made him feel even more ill.

'Around the bend…' there were the cream rooms. Whipped Cream, Coconut Cream, Butter Cream—That was it! "Stop the boat!" Excited despite himself, Charlie leapt out of the boat and entered the Hair Cream room, right between Butter Cream and Toffee Cream.

Willy was more proud than ever of his own genius, building the tunnels which the chocolate river flowed though out of superheated, crystallized sugar like that. Not only had he saved money on building costs, but he didn't even have to be in the tunnel to be able to see what was going on inside of it. He was a genius, plain and simple. Scratch that last bit, Willy was anything but plain and simple.

He padded along above the tunnel, not having any trouble keeping up with the pink sea horse in the slightest. True, it didn't need rowers to propel itself, but it wasn't quite as fast without them. If he could have, he would have smirked. None the less, he was still proud of both himself and Charlie, who was following his clues perfectly, if not a little slowly.

Several rooms later, Charlie was beginning to get frustrated with the scavenger hunt. Ordinarily he'd have enjoyed it, but right now he only wanted to see Willy. The only thing that kept him going was that there could only be a finite number of clues, and eventually he'd solve them all and they could talk. Entering the nut room, Charlie walked out onto the floor, only to be met by one of the clever squirrels. It climbed up into his arms and deposited a card in his hand before begging to be petted.

Smiling despite himself, Charlie scratched the squirrel's head while he read the clue.

"Your quest is nearly over, the end is now in sight.

Your final clue is in the place a seahorse spends the night."

Charlie set the squirrel down and practically ran for the boat. It was where he'd left it, but in the meantime had been filled with swudge-hay destined for Willy's experimental wool candy sheep. Its more immediate destination, though, was the barn where the hay was stored. Which also happened to be the place where the boat docked when it wasn't in use. Charlie set the boat in motion excitedly.

Wonka giggled as Charlie entered the homestretch of this little game. Oh he was so excited. His heart was pounding and the pit of his stomach was fluttering. Apparently the Seahorse boat was picking up on both Willy and Charlie's excitement, because Wonka was forced to run full tilt to make it back to the swudge-hay barn before Charlie and make the final preparations. Namely, make sure he knew exactly where the massage oil was and have the purple satin blanket laid out. When that was done, he hid behind the barn and waited for Charlie to enter.

Charlie tried to figure out why his stomach had stayed behind in the nut room. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as the boat pulled into its berth, then climbed out of the boat and entered the dimly-lit barn. "Willy?"

Willy moved from his hiding place, grabbed a pair of goblets, and slunk down to the chocolate river, carefully ladling some of the hot melted chocolate into each. He made his way back to the barn and entered like a wraith. Charlie didn't know he was there until he turned to see Willy's smiling face and the proffered goblet.

"Oh… thanks…" Charlie accepted the goblet and tried not to blush. His depression and worry had melted away at the sight of Willy, and he felt like a lovestruck puppy again. Willy looked different without his coat and hat, but for some reason it only made him seem exotic. Trying to keep from staring, Charlie took a sip from the goblet. He smiled shyly. "Every time I drink chocolate I think about the tour of the factory…"

Willy returned the shy smile and took a sip from his own goblet. "I think about that day often. when I'm having a particularly rotten day, I'll think to myself, 'Willy, it could be worse. You could have those brats running around -touching- things again.' and I feel much better afterward! It's what got me through the time after you... turned down my offer."

Charlie's laugh was genuine, if a bit strained. "I've sometimes wondered what it would have been like if one of them won, instead of me… Imagine if it had been Augustus."

Wonka spluttered at hearing this and a fine, dignified double stream of hot, melted chocolate was expelled through his nose. He coughed several times and bent over to catch his breath. After he recovered from the shock of his violent reaction, Willy's caustic mind caught up with his mouth, and he said with a small yet extremely malicious smile, "Strawberry-flavored, chocolate-coated Gloop."

"Probably a good thing he didn't win, then." Charlie grinned, offering his handkerchief to Willy. He knew the chocolatier generally carried one, but he doubted Willy was enthusiastic about the idea of getting it dirty. "It never would have sold. The taste would be terrible."

Wonka blushed faintly and accepted the handkerchief, using it to wipe off his face and what little that had made it onto his clothing. It was a rather sweet gesture on Charlie's part. "I've taught you well, you're absolutely right! And just imagine if that monstrousity of a mumbler had won!"

"Who doesn't even like chocolate." Charlie shook his head at such a bizarre attitude, smiling a little. If this was Willy's plan to help things get back to normal between them, it was working. Provided the definition of 'normal' took into account that Charlie had been quietly in love with Willy for years. "Why would you want to go to a chocolate factory if you don't like chocolate? And who would choose something like gum over chocolate in the first place?"

"Underdevolped, purple, Y-lackers with no fashion sense and extremely unattractive mothers." Willy managed to say with a straight face. "I've been wondering for years who was worse, her or the other one, the won stupid enough to wear a mink coat in a roomfull of squirrels."

Charlie tried to keep his face as serious as Willy's, but not as successfully. "The nut room? I was too busy wondering why she wore it in the factory to begin with. Most of the factory is like being in summer weather…" Charlie broke off, blushing. He wasn't sure whether this morning was taboo in the conversation. "She must have been sweating rivers. The squirrels probably thought she was a piece of garbage instead of a bad nut."

Willy knew perfectly well exactly what the squirrels had thought of that beastly girl, but he didn't want to ruin the flow of the conversation, since it was what was keeping things from becoming awkward. He needed a good segue to get the conversation start in a direction that would produce sparks at the very least. "Suppose you were one of the rotten ones, what do you suppose would have happened to you?" Wonka ask, out of the sheerest curiousity.

"I… don't know. I never thought about it—I was just so glad I won." Charlie sipped thoughtfully at his chocolate, then laughed. "I'd probably have floated away after drinking Fizzy Lifting Cola."

Willy raised an elegant eyebrow and took another sip of the chocolate. "Might you be speaking from personal experience?"

"Me?" Charlie smiled at Willy innocently—far too innocently. "Wherever would you get an idea like that?"

Wonka, not buying the innocent look for a second but loving it nonetheless, gave Charlie what he though was his best 'I know what you did last summer' stare, and answered, "Because I wasn't there to keep you out of trouble."

It was hard—very hard—to maintain the innocence, but Charlie managed. "So you're saying I get in trouble every time you're not around, and never when you're with me?"

"Around and conscious." 'And the situation isn't being tampered with by oompa loompas.' Wonka added silently, "That's exactly what I'm saying." He'd never really considered sex before, so he couldn't consider it trouble.

Charlie blushed again, ruthlessly shoving away the hope that welled up at Willy's words. He was imagining things, that was all. Pure wishful thinking. "You were conscious when the fudgalanche happened. Wasn't that trouble?"

"Ah… that. That was trouble caused by a completely unforeseen interference." Wonka said, looking slightly uncomfortable thinking that the oompa loompas knew exactly what they would be up to tonight. Tricksy little buggers.

"Aha! So I can get in trouble while you're around!" Charlie grinned, then looked thoughtful a moment. "Or… If –I- can't get in trouble when you're around, that means that –you're- the one who got us in trouble this morning." He nodded wisely, a gesture that didn't match well with the grin on his face.

Willy decided that Charlie's grin looked entirely too smug, so he covered the ground between them swiftly and stopped just short of running into Charlie. He shifted forward just enough so that their bodies were touching lightly and he wrapped his arms around Charlie's neck before leaning forward and whispered in as sultry a voice as he could muster, "Is that what you think?"

Charlie stopped breathing as his eyes met those wonderful violet ones just inches away. Very slowly, and with exquisite caution, he set his nearly-empty goblet of chocolate down. Still slowly, he slid his arms around Willy's waist. His eyes never left the candymaker's, and he finally breathed again. "I'm sorry… I don't remember what we were talking about…"

At this, Willy looked Charlie dead in the eyes , wearing his most serious expression, and said "We were discussing the squirrel's lack of productivity in the nut room. It needs to be fixed before anything else can be done."

Charlie tried to concentrate on Willy's words. He really did. But every time they started to arrange themselves sensibly in his mind, they were scattered again by the body touching his or the arms around his neck, or the eyes—those beautiful eyes—gazing into his. The silence dragged on for a wonderful eternity, until Charlie forced himself to say something in the hopes that it would make sense. "Your eyes are beautiful."

Willy's face flushed and he practically purred, extremely pleased by the compliment. He lowered his chin until he was looking at Charlie through his lashes, hoping it looked as sultry as he was hoping it did.

If anything, Willy had underestimated the effect. Charlie's arms tightened around him automatically, pulling them closer together and reinstating the poking that had so flustered Willy on Fudge Mountain—or under Fudge Mountain, as it were. Uncertainly, Charlie tilted his head forward and brushed his lips against the smooth pale skin of Willy's cheek. "Everything about you is beautiful…"

If it was possible, Willy's blush grew even brighter, and he swallowed nervously. He leaned into Charlie's touch and his eyes fluttered closed. He pulled back slightly, and led Charlie over to the pile of swudge hay he had covered with satin sheet. He turned back to Charlie and pulled him close again, kissing him lightly.

Charlie returned the kiss, slowly giving into his desires and pressing his lips more firmly against Willy's soft ones, savoring the hints of chocolate in the taste. One arm pulled the chocolatier tight against him while the opposite hand buried itself in soft silky hair. He tried futilely to come up with words to express what he was feeling, but finally settled for pouring his soul out to Willy through the kiss.

Willy was finding it more and more difficult to stay standing under his own power. The passion he was feeling from Charlie was staggering, it almost brought tears of joy to his eyes. The tears would have to wait for later, right now he had a treat to sample.

He tried pouring as much love and passion into the kiss as Charlie had, but he wasn't sure if he could feel that much and still be alive, so he settled for giving it all he had, before he moved on from Charlie's mouth, kissed his way up his protégé's cheek, and over to his ear. He nibbled on the lobe for a moment or so before blowing into the ear gently and whispering, "Take me."

Charlie's entire body shivered at those words, and they seemed to release something he'd been holding back. His hands began removing Willy's clothes with an almost frantic gentleness. He got the purple silk shirt off in record time, and let it flutter to the ground while he kissed his way across bare shoulders and fumbled with the stubborn zipper of his mentor's pants. He wanted—needed—to see the body under those clothes, and know that all of his dreams were finally coming true.

Willy darted in for a quick kiss as he gently moved Charlie's hands out of the way and undid the zipper himself. Then he started on Charlie's own clothes, working quickly to disrobe him until they were both standing there in their slacks, and not much else.

At the moment, his body had taken over for his mind, leaving his mind to revel in the sensations bother were experiencing. His mind decided that his body deserved a treat for giving it such a wonderful vacation. Eh, or not. His mind decided that the sex would be good enough for them both.

Charlie pulled out of the embrace, panting and holding Willy at arm's length. Now, instead of caressing with hands and lips, he did it with his eyes. He'd never seen anything so wonderful since the first day he'd walked into the factory. He asked the same thing now that he'd wondered then. "I'm not dreaming, am I?"

"Not unless we're both dreaming." Willy said shyly, he greatly wished Charlie wouldn't devour him with his eyes like that, but he supposed he'd get used to being seen nude quickly enough. He pulled Charlie close again, and tentatively licked the younger one's lips.

Charlie responded by opening his lips and planting his mouth hungrily against Willy's. His hands wrapped around the chocolatier's slender waist and pushed him gently back onto the satin-covered stack of swudge. Resting his weight lightly on top of Willy, he closed his eyes and melted into the kiss.

Willy moaned quietly, the noise turning into a gasp near the end when he felt an utterly foreign and extremely pleasurable sensation coming from his nether regions. He would have been shocked or even a little scared if he hadn't been visually devouring Charlie's own a moment or so earlier. He slowly spread his legs and wrapped them around Charlie's back, the importance of foreplay utterly lost on him.

Willy's eagerness made Charlie laugh, and he squirmed around to kiss and nibble at the older man's throat. His hands began exploring, lingering in some places and simply skimming across others. Daringly, he reached down to cup the smooth white buttocks of his beloved. He felt something cold and hard underneath Willy and brought it up to look at, choking when he identified it. "Willy… why do you have this?"

Willy tried his hardest not to burst out laughing, afraid it might dampen the mood, and collected his thoughts enough to manage a single, deliciously evil idea. "I'll let you have me only after you guess how I came to possess that."

Charlie blushed, burying his face in Willy's shoulder. Then he grinned, and began to chuckle. "Obviously you picked it up accidentally, thinking it was a new kind of candy." He paused to read the label. "Cherry-flavored, no less."

"Now, my dear Charlie, where would I have picked it up from?" Willy wrinkled his nose, he hadn't even known such a thing existed until it had been sent to him, "I haven't set foot outside of the factory since you came to live here, you know that. Guess again!"

"Nope." Charlie grinned, and nibbled at Willy's shoulder. "You said I had to guess. You didn't say I had to guess right. So you tell me where it came from."

"Neither did I specify when I would let you take me. " Willy said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Charlie only suffered a split second of worry this time. He knew now that his feelings were returned, and that made the eventual outcome inevitable. Philosophically, he shrugged and then began trailing kisses across Willy's throat, enjoying the smooth ivory skin under his lips. "I'll take you before either of us leaves this barn, at any rate."

Willy smirked and brought a piece of swudge hay to his lips and nibbled on it delicately, "That could be awhile, there's a water spigot somewhere in the back, and plenty of swudge. We wouldn't have to leave for a long while, isn't that neat?" He giggled, pushing playfully at Charlie and leaning his neck back, just out of reach. "And since I am the Master here, I amend my earlier statement to 'I will not let you take me until you correctly guess how I came to possess this… object.'."

Charlie propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at Willy with a smirk. His eyes lingered particularly on one part of that elegant white neck, marking it as his lips' next target. "Well, if you didn't go out and buy it, someone must have sent it to you."

"Hmmmm, is that a question, or a statement?" Willy ask teasingly, he hadn't the slightest clue what the oompa loompas had slipped into his hot chocolate that morning, but he was thankful for it. He would have never survived even this limited contact on his own.

"A guess." Charlie grinned, then made the mistake of looking into Willy's eyes. Within a heartbeat he was drowning, the guessing game momentarily forgotten. Who cared about guessing games with such a breathtaking sight at hand?

Willy's smile faded as he returned Charlie's gaze, and he felt his nerves beginning to stir again. His heart began thudding in his chest and all thoughts of teasing Charlie further flew from his mind. Charlie was probably as fed up with waiting as he himself was; now was hardly the time to be coy. He gave Charlie a nervous smile and said, "Close enough. You win again, Charlie."

Charlie smiled and leaned forward to close the distance between them. He kissed Willy's lips, then dove for the spot on his throat that he'd mentally marked earlier. A couple of light kisses and then he fastened his lips on the spot, sucking lightly. It was going to be a marvelous hickey. He wondered what Willy would say when he saw it.

Willy would have purred if the idea hadn't sounded so silly, but he could hardly help it with Charlie kissing his neck as he was. His body shuddered happily. The last time he'd felt so much sensation was when he had slipped and fallen into a vat of half-frozen sherbet. He shuddered again, violently at the memory and whimpered. It had taken almost an hour to figure out how to get himself out, as his pride had refused to allow him to call for help.

The shiver surprised Charlie, and he looked up nervously. Had he done something wrong to make Willy whimper like that? "Willy?"

Willy's only answer was to pull Charlie into a fierce kiss, driving all thoughts of mind-numbing cold away. He then dug his fingers into Charlie's hair, and clenched his thighs around the boy's hips, moaning softly and begging for more.

Any semblance of coherent thought went out of Charlie's mind, and he responded hungrily to the kiss. His hands went down to cup Willy's buttocks again, squeezing lightly and slipping his fingertips between those smooth white cheeks. Urged on by the moans and begging, he began to work one of his fingers into the older man.

Willy closed his eyes and frowned at the unfamiliar sensation. He hoped that he would get used to it quickly, and prayed to whomever that the pleasure was worth the pain he knew would come with it. He raked his nails down Charlie's back sharply to urge him on.

Charlie pressed a second finger in beside the first, knowing that the more he got Willy prepared the less pain there would be later. Or so he was told, and he was embarrassedly grateful that he'd actually looked that up on the internet. Pushing the embarrassment away, he grinned mischievously and kissed his way down Willy's chest to tease one of his nipples with tongue and teeth.

Willy drew in a sharp, hissing breath, and moaned. Charlie seemed to know what he was doing, and he was sorely tempted to ask him about it. Unfortunately for his curiosity, Charlie's continued nibbling dashed all ability of speech. He could always ask later. Willy felt a shock travel through his body and down to his throbbing arousal as Charlie bit down on his nipple sharply. He'd ask later, if he could remember, but that seemed unlikely.

Charlie scissored his fingers open, gently stretching the entrance further. He tried not to hurry, but it was hard with Willy moaning and writhing beneath him. Leaving a trail of wet licks across to the other nipple, he began sucking on it with what he hoped was a sexy growl.

Though the pleasure-induced haze in his mind, Willy had to fight back a giggle. His little lion wasn't quite grown up yet, but he decided to give him points for trying. He could tell Charlie was trying hard to be patient and appreciated it, but the impish side of him saw it as an opportunity. Barely holding back an un-Willy-like smirk, he slid the hand that wasn't tangled in Charlie's hair between them and brushed it against the boy's erection.

The growl was interrupted by a gasping moan as Charlie's body shook at the caress. In revenge, he dragged his teeth across Willy's nipple. His free hand fumbled for the tube of lubricant and opened it, twitching his nostrils at the fake cherry scent. With shaking fingers, he smeared the lube on himself, making no little mess in the process. Taking a shaky breath, he looked up into Willy's eyes.

Willy grabbed Charlie's chin, somewhat roughly and pulled the boy back up of a heated kiss, all nervousness and shyness forgotten. When the kiss was ended, Willy returned Charlie's gaze and gave a barely perceptible nod. He was as ready as he would ever be. At least, he hoped so.

Charlie nodded, not sure if he'd ever be able to breathe again. He lifted Willy's hips and began to press into him as gently as desire would allow. Slow, slow. To distract them both, he shifted his grip and freed a hand to caress the chocolatier's erection gently.

Willy closed his eyes and clenched his jaw against the intrusion, but Charlie's hand light touches soon turned him into metaphoric putty, and he relaxed almost completely. To further distract himself, Wonka began nibbling what bits of Charlie's neck he could reach, still gently caressing the boy

Charlie moaned softly, his urgency making him a little rougher than he'd meant to be. Following instinct more than his limited knowledge, he began thrusting in and out of Willy, slowly and shallowly at first. His hand coiled around the older man's shaft and began stroking it in time with his own actions.

Willy alternated with every thrust between hissing sharply and moaning, but either way he was writhing from the pleasure and pain of it all. From what they were doing and how, Wonka was shocked that there was not more pain. Not that he was complaining, of course, far from it.

Release, when it came, shocked and chagrined Charlie. Inexperience, combined with day-long horniness had already primed the pump, so to speak. He cried out loudly at the intense rush into Willy and then rested there, panting and blushing with humiliation. The only thing he could remember through the shame was to keep caressing his lover.


End file.
